


Strength of the Few

by chumimiista



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Dry Humping, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Minor Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Muscles, Physical Therapy, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Tension, Tattoo fetish, muscle fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chumimiista/pseuds/chumimiista
Summary: Nero's a gym rat. Dante issupposedto be his gym partner, mostly to spot him while he regains some upper body strength, but the flake always cancels on him. To make things worse, his goddamn headphones die in the middle of a workout. Of course.But is this a blessing? For the next thing he hears is the deep, mysterious voice of a new gym-goer, and he is beautiful. Now Nero just has to work up some nerve to talk to the guy!NeroV, modern AU/physical therapy AU where V is in PT and Nero wishes he were the physical therapist helping him. ;) Eventual smut, mentions of Vergil/Dante.
Relationships: Nero & V (Devil May Cry), Nero/V (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 134





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> mmmmmkay so i only briefly researched types of physical therapy for this fic! but it's mostly told from nero's pov, so if i fudged any details, it wouldn't be anything hugely important. i decided to make this a multichap fic because it got so long (currently 13 pages). it's not quite finished yet, but i wanted to post it NOW because i love these two so much and there aren't nearly enough NeroV fics imo.
> 
> some notes:  
> -i used to gym a lot so i wrote this based on my experiences (i still lift, but primarily at home. can u tell i have a muscle fetish? yah.)  
> -nero's right forearm had a nasty break during a bout with dante abt 1 year or so prior to this fic, so he has a metal rod inside of it. loosely based on what happened to an ex of mine but in his leg lol, they had to surgically insert a metal rod so the bone would grow back or re-fuse properly, i don't rly remember exactly. i very much like the idea of nero being one-armed, but that would take a lot more description and remembering the fact on my part so i settled with an injury and him being partly bionic (lol jk)  
> -vergil & dante are in love and fucking. nero still feels a lil weird about his dad and uncle doin' it but he doesn't rly care THAT much. also VD is hot. i love spardacest so of course it's included in my fic lmao  
> -some tension between nero & daddy because i guess i kinda wanted this fic to be a little deep????? i crave nero/vergil interaction whether it be innocently as father & son or smutty incest (insert big sad eyes emoji cuz i am PARCHED of nero/vergil content)

_Where the fuck are you?_

Nero shoved his phone back into his pocket and continued onto his fifth set. Breathe _out_ , in, out—lift—squeeze the shoulder blades, inhale, repeat a few more times, then back to the resting position. Damn. His back was already feeling it, but he accounted that he might have been lifting heavier and more angrily due to Dante’s third no-show in a row. He was gettin’ real sick of his shitty ass uncle cancelling on him. Not that he _needed_ a gym partner… Actually, without that old fart’s sarcastic comments and terrible jokes, he was doing better. Lifting more, lasting through longer sets. Nero wiped the sweat off his forehead with a towel, aiming for one more set before moving to another machine.

When he finished with the lat pulldown, he wiped the seat down—‘cause unlike Dante, he was fucking courteous to other gym-goers—and moved onto the fly machine. His phone buzzed in his pocket at the exact moment his headphones began to beep, signaling low battery; he whispered _fuck_ before opening the text message from his uncle.

_Sorry kid! Your dad and I—_

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Dante!” Nero froze, realizing he’d said that just a little too loud. One swift glare toward all the folks staring at him took care of the problem, but damn, maybe he shouldn’t listen to his music so loud that he had to yell to hear himself. Or maybe he should stop caring and accept that his lazy-ass, unaccountable uncle would forever disappoint him. Still, didn’t mean he had to know about him and his father’s demonic need to fuck like rabbits.

With a frustrated sigh, he started on a second set of flies. One, two, three… ten. Fuck. His biceps were burning. Although it _had_ been a while since he did a hardcore workout... Might as well! He needed all the training he could get to kick his uncle’s ass next time they sparred.

Beep. Beep. Nero had forgotten that his headphones were about to die. “C’mon, just a little bit longer. One more hour’s all I’m askin’!” he said to himself.

By the time he got to the free weights area, they’d died. Fucking great. Nero was tempted to toss a dumbbell into the mirror and shatter it out of frustration, but he was pretty superstitious about that kinda bad luck stuff, not to mention getting kicked out of the gym. “Whatever,” he mumbled, keeping them in to prevent others from talking to him.

Nero grabbed a straight bar, 90 pounds. He still needed to strengthen his right arm after that crazy fucking break during one of Dante’s wild, no-holds-barred sparring moods. Sometimes the metal rod inside his arm ached like hell, but he always pushed through the pain. He could handle it just like he handled the surgery, the physical therapy, and the frustration of being weak as fuck for months afterward. _Thanks Dante_. Nero shook his head and stopped thinking about it, focusing instead on curling; 1, 2, 3…7. 8. Just one more. 9. _One_ more! 10. He pushed air through his teeth at the last lift and inhaled slowly, remembering to keep the movement slow and controlled as he lowered it to his hips, then down to the floor.

When he reached down for his towel, he heard a low, deep voice.

“Ah, I understand.”

“Here will do,” said another voice. Nero looked up to see one of the gym’s licensed physical therapists gesture with his hand to a seated bench for his client to take. The client with him was…

Truthfully, not the type of person Nero had ever seen in that particular gym. While it was not restricted to meatheads and serious bodybuilders, he’d only seen a handful of folks come in for physical therapy, and most of them were older and didn’t mind the big, muscly gymgoers that lifted heavy and smelled up the space with their sweat. This man with such a deep, powerful voice was sunken within a baggy sweatshirt and leggings that still hung loose over his legs. Nero didn’t want to assume the man was self-conscious, but with those clothes it was hard not to think such a thing.

Nero cursed, realizing he’d paused longer than he meant to. He felt his phone buzz again but ignored it, going for another 12 reps. Easy. He set the bar down, paced a little bit, trying not to stare; but when he started his third set the man spoke again and Nero’s arms suddenly felt like they turned into Jell-O.

“These are a bit more than I can handle,” the man said. Nero shivered.

“Not a problem! It’s your first session, so we’ll feel it out until you find something you’re comfortable with and work from there. The next one down would be two and a half pounds, let’s see how that feels.”

“These feel much better.”

“Okay. We’ll start with five reps, and if you feel like you can do more, tell me. It’s always good to start somewhere in the middle without pushing too hard. Remember, we want to gradually strengthen your muscles…”

Nero exhaled slowly before lifting the straight bar again. One, two, three… His concentration was shot. Not because their counting was off from his—quite the contrary! His lifts matched perfectly in time with the new guy’s. But then he spoke with that velvety smooth voice. Again.

“I think I can manage a few more.”

How the fuck could someone so lanky have such a sultry voice? _Shut up, Nero_ , he told himself. _Why the fuck are you judgin’ other people anyway?_

He finished his last set and replaced the straight bar to its rack. Nero strategically glanced at the man as he walked back to grab his towel from the bench, and his heart fluttered.

He was _beautiful_ in every interpretation of the word. His hair, mostly black with a few—white? Gray?—streaks, was medium length and wavy. His eyes were dark but shone green under the bright gym lights, and his perfectly shaped brows were already framed by beads of sweat. How many sets had he done? Did Nero lose track of time, or was the man really so weak that two and a halves were too much for him? Whatever the case, the way the sweat made his face glisten was oddly angelic. Nero caught a glimpse of tattoos going down his neck, but they were lost beneath the large hoodie over his torso.

“Shit.” Nero hurried away with his towel, hoping neither of them saw him staring for too long. What did he do that for? So what if the man had a pretty face and a sexy voice. “Wait what—” Fuck. He hoped that by switching his gym days, maybe he’d never see the man again. Not that he didn’t want to, but it was definitely a distraction he didn’t need. _Definitely_.

Nero had no such luck. Turned out the man was in physical therapy four days a week during the exact same hours that Nero could get to the gym. Even when Nero tried to swap gym days or come in an hour early or an hour late, he still saw the man three out of four times, always alternating between free weights and the treadmill or stair master. Each time, he saw the man in baggy clothes, and each time, he heard that seductive voice. Nero was pretty sure the man could say “rotten, smelly egg salad” and he’d still find it sexy.

Of course, things got harder for Nero because one particular Saturday, Dante decided to show. The one fucking time. Saturdays were the new guy’s leg day—well, sort of. He’d switch between the treadmill and stair master every other week, and, well, maybe Nero was a fucking pervert and paid attention to that detail. The man may have been lanky, but he still had a cute little ass.

“Hello? _Hello_? Earth to Nero? The hell you lookin’ at?”

“Nothing! Just shut up and get off the bench, asshole.”

Unfortunately Nero hadn’t looked away fast enough. Dante whistled low, chuckling as his eyes found the person that held his nephew’s attention. “Got yourself a crush, do ya?”

“No. Stop talking and spot me.”

Dante spotted him alright, but not without a teasing grin and quick glances across the room at the man. “He’s got a pretty face, I’ll give ya that. But why the baggy getup?”

“What does it matter, Dante? The guy’s in physical therapy, give him a fucking break.”

“Whoa, whoa, calm your tits, kid.” Dante swapped spots with Nero. “Just wondering, is all. Why don’t you ask him out?”

“Can we not have this conversation? I’m ending it right now. Start lifting or I’ll drop the fucking barbell on your _neck_.”

Dante laughed. With a roll of his eyes, Nero added a few more plates because of-fucking-course his uncle would tell him it was too light _just_ to one-up him in front of his crush. Not that the bench press was super close to the stair master… But Nero _had_ chosen one that had him in plain view. Fuck. What if he saw Dante showing off?

_Ugh, stop thinking_ , he told himself, helping Dante lift the bar although he didn’t need it.

Nero went back to the gym the following Tuesday. Dante had somehow taken the hint and let him go alone, making up another lame excuse. All it took was his dad waltzing into the room shirtless for Nero to grunt and run out the door before the two of them started fucking right in front of him. (They’d done it before. Shamelessly.)

He _finally_ remembered to charge his headphones, too, so no distractions. It wasn’t like he purposely let them stay dead just so he could hear the mysterious gym-goer’s voice, not at all, but that wasn’t the point! Nero was _feeling_ too much. He couldn’t even place his finger on it. Okay, maybe he had a big crush on the guy – he was gorgeous, his voice was mesmerizing and his words eloquent, and with each passing week, Nero bore witness to his physical improvement. It was amazing to see. The man went back up to five pounds only a week or two after he tried the two and a halves. His upper body was fairly resilient, but he seemed to struggle more on his legs; Nero had noticed during the man’s third session that he carried around a cane, but he didn’t always use it.

Nero didn’t think the man fragile, by any means. His impressive progress alone proved him to be stronger than Nero initially thought. Still… a strange tightness pinched in Nero’s chest on the days the man used his cane to walk ever-so-slowly around the gym. Nero sometimes thought that maybe _he_ wanted to be the one helping him, not the damn physical therapist. He’d even carry him around if he asked him to.

Nearly two hours later, Nero finished an intense full-body workout. His skin was slick with sweat, soaking through his clothes; he smelled so bad he decided to brave the gym showers. He hated them because they always smelled like bleach, but no way in hell would he survive the forty-minute rush hour drive home sitting in his own stinking filth.

He shucked off his shirt upon reaching the locker room, then stripped out of his shoes, socks and sweats and stuffed them into his locker. Nero took the nearest open stall and turned the shower knob, waiting until the water steamed and burned his fingers before stepping in. The water was scalding on his skin, immediately turning it red as he washed off the first layer of grime. Nero hummed, pumping the gym-provided soap into his hands to lather under his arms, then down his sticky abs. He felt kinda weird about washing his dick in semi-public, but hell, there was a shower curtain obscuring it and his dick probably smelled the worst. He pumped more soap in his hands and washed the rest of his body, scrubbing his feet roughly before rinsing all the dirt away.

Nero turned back the knob and stretched his arms above his head, groaning as his muscles loosened from both the movement and remaining heat. He felt more refreshed than ever before!

With newfound energy, he pulled open the curtain. _Completely_ out-there-nude because he’d forgotten to grab a towel before running to wash himself clean.

To make it worse, none other than the mysterious man with tattoos and a cane sat across from him on a bench. He wasn’t wearing that damn sweater, or any shirt for that matter, and he was staring.

_Both_ of them stared. Nero cursed and pulled the curtain over his dick—shit, fuck, was that weird to do? They were in a locker room after all, he’d changed in front of plenty of men before, but—

“Oh, do forgive me,” the man said. “I didn’t mean to stare. You look quite familiar.”

“Hah, that’s okay, I mean we’re both guys right?” Nero said nervously. “Uh, not to be weird but would you—would you mind going in locker number 45 and tossing me my towel? Sorry ‘bout the smell.”

The man tilted his head. It was kinda cute, but Nero had to cover himself up before he could even consider the fact that he was finally face-to-face and kind of having a conversation with his goddamn gym crush. “Thanks!” Nero caught the towel and quickly wrapped it around his waist before exiting the stall.

“You attend this gym, do you not?”

Nero startled. He was busy trying to figure out how to change into his clothes without tripping, and truthfully, he didn’t think the man would actually keep talking to him. “Uh, yeah. That’s probably why I look familiar. I’ve seen you around too.”

“I see.”

Nero’s brows furrowed. He looked back at the man, but he wasn’t facing him. He could’ve sworn he heard some kind of smugness in that simple phrase.

“So—” Clean pants on, success. Nero zipped up and put on a t-shirt. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me V. And you are?”

“Nero.”

He held out his hand. V cautiously turned, unsure whether Nero had already clothed himself. A little smirk graced his plump, pink lips before he said, “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Haha, likewise. Hey, um, I know you’re training with Jonny, but maybe sometime if you’re up to it we could partner up. Y’know. I’m pretty good at strength training and my shitty uncle always cancels on me, so I’m open to finding a new gym partner.”

“He sounds _very_ reliable,” V said. Okay, that was sarcasm, which was good, right? They were having a conversation! “That could be interesting… But, as you can guess, I’m not yet prepared to endure—” V eyed the lumps and bumps of Nero’s muscular body, barely concealed by the thin t-shirt fabric. “—such _heavy_ lifting as you.”

“Oh—no! That’s not what I meant—ah, fuck. It’s not about the heaviest you can lift, y’know? Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax.” _Oh no_. That single word gave Nero shivers, one single word, but in V’s deep, smooth voice it felt like a command and he was eager to obey. “I merely jest.”

Nero raised a brow. “ _Merely_? _Jest_? Where you from, the sixteenth century?”

“Perhaps.”

Nero laughed. “Alright, then. See you later, V.”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero makes V a delicious protein smoothie.

Dante was behind his desk, as usual, when Nero came downstairs into the kitchen. He paid him little attention, headphones already in and an upbeat tune pounding in his ears as he grabbed ingredients to make his daily smoothie. He bobbed his head back and forth, tossing in fruits, veggies, nuts, and protein powder. A press of the button and it blended into a dark green color with bits of red from the strawberries visible here and there. He felt Dante tap on his shoulder as he poured the mixture into two containers. Nero groaned and took out one earbud. “What, Dante?”

“You got a little bounce in your step,” Dante observed. There was that stupid fucking smirk. “Had some alone time with pretty boy this week?”

“God, shut up,” Nero said. He wished his cheeks wouldn’t betray him so easily, but if it wasn’t the blush it was the gentle twitch of his lips into a smile. “We just kinda talked in the locker room. That’s all.”

“Ah, but today you’re gonna ask him out, aren’t ya?”

Nero didn’t feel bad at the hissing sound Dante made when he punched his shoulder. “Quit meddling, will you?” He headed out the door without another word, a smoothie in either hand. He tried to ignore the quickened beat of his heart, the fluttering in his stomach and the warmth in his cheeks. They’d only exchanged a few words, but the man was elegant and looked so… _breathtaking_ that day in the locker room. His tattoos were intricately designed in swirls and pointed edges all over his torso and arms; they were a good enough distraction to prevent Nero from staring at his cute, pink nipples. V _was_ very slim but his body did not lack muscle; every sharp curve down his arm was skin that clung to tightly toned, meaty biceps and rounded shoulders.

Nero groaned, shifting in his seat. Great. Now he had to drive with a boner or think of something else to make it go away. _Dante and dad fucking, Dante and dad fucking…_ To no avail. Nero took a deep breath, exhaled, kept his rhythm steady, repeating this until his mind cleared. Eventually it went away, leaving his cock limp beneath his joggers.

He wasted no time stashing his gym bag in his usual locker. Nero tucked the key into his pocket as he walked out with both smoothies in hand and his headphones dangling around his neck. He quickly looked around, easily spotting V at the check-in counter. He walked briskly toward him, unable to force back the large smile on his face. “Hey V!” he said.

“Hello, Nero,” V said. _God, that voice!_ V smiled a little.

“I brought you this—I mean.” Nero cleared his throat. “I, uh, I accidentally made too much this morning, so I brought an extra smoothie. I was gonna drink it later, but I thought you might want it—it’s pretty tasty if you ignore the ugly color. Heh.”

Was that a blush? A little bit of pink upon V’s sharp, pale cheeks? Nero’s neck burned. He pushed one smoothie forward. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, just wanted to offer.”

“Thank you.” V took the cup in his hand, carefully lifting the spout to his lips. Damn, those lips were so puffy and big, Nero wanted to kiss them and _bite_ them and—he quickly shoved those thoughts into the deepest part of his mind, opting instead to gauge whether V enjoyed the taste. He licked his lips. Nero swallowed a whine. “Delicious. What’s in it?”

“Ah, you know, little bit of this, little bit of that. I can’t just _give_ you my recipe,” Nero joked. Fuck, his voice shook as he spoke. It was supposed to be a silly quip, what was he all nervous for? V chuckled.

“Duly noted. I’ll see you around.” Nero nodded, ducking his head a little. He felt embarrassed and giddy. “Thank you again for the treat, Nero.”

“Anytime,” he said, maybe a little too breathless. “Glad you like it!”

He shifted his weight, standing there a moment longer as he sipped on his own smoothie, then headed straight to the free weights. Nero’s hands trembled, and it was then that he knew he’d gotten himself in way too deep.

Their meetings from then on were more often and less coincidental. Nero was pretty bad at pretending he didn’t want to be in V’s company, but V assured him if he didn’t like the attention he would’ve shot him down already. Nero suspected V _wanted_ to fluster him in that moment by the way the corner of his lips tilted playfully upward; he had to resist the urge to lean forward and beg for a kiss. On some days, when Jonny was late or had other clients to help, V would meander around the gym until he found Nero lifting somewhere. He’d usually find him on the treadmill or an open bench, pushing dumbbells up into the air, counting silently as he breathed in and out through his teeth.

V took great humor in startling him. Nero always kept his volume turned up to the max, so when he turned around to suddenly see V leaning on his cane or sitting on an empty bench next to him, he’d jump out of his skin. Today was no different, except that V had foregone his oversized sweatshirt for a loosely fitting crew neck. Nero tried not to stare too hard at those mesmerizing tattoos, but only when V laughed through his nose did he take his eyes off the ink.

“Sorry, just curious about them. Did it hurt?”

“Of course, they’re tattoos after all. Or do you not know the process?” V teased.

“I know the process, dummy,” he spat back, pouting a little. V chuckled.

“I can tell you that the skin begins to numb after a time. Makes it a little easier to endure the pain, unless you’re a masochist. Then you long for the feeling of pain to return.”

Nero bit his lip. “A masochist, huh? How long did it take to get them all done?”

“A few sessions, usually five to six hours each. My back is completely covered, as well.”

“I’d say that makes you a bit of a masochist, V,” Nero said. He noticed a dangerous shine in V’s eyes and a smirk that looked a little too familiar, like Dante’s when he knew something Nero didn’t or was planning something mischievous.

“Hmm. I can neither confirm nor deny such a statement.”

“Hey, V! Sorry I’m late. Oh, you’re Nero, right?” Jonny walked over and held out his hand to shake. “Dante’s been a gym member for so long, he always talks about ya. You’re doing pretty well for yourself! I see you’ve met V?”

“Oh, yeah, you know. Just keepin’ him company in the meantime.”

“Ya know, you two should consider being gym partners, I think it’d be good for V on his off days. Keep each other accountable, huh? Alright, we’ll see you later. Bye, Nero, nice meeting you.”

V stood up from the bench to take his leave, but not before setting his hand atop Nero’s bare shoulder. “Until next time,” he said. Fuck. His voice, so deep, so inviting – Nero got a feeling that he was being tormented on purpose and couldn’t suppress a shudder. He weakly mumbled, “See ya,” and doubled down on his lifts. He was gonna need a damn good distraction to pretend he wasn’t half-stiff from the hand on his skin and V's booming voice stuck in his head.

It was the following Saturday that Nero saw V after their heated encounter. Nero had gone over it in his head a dozen times, maybe it _wasn’t_ a heated encounter - no way V was flirting with him, right? The masochist joke was just a _joke_ , and they were talking about his tattoos after all, not attraction or personal things like their kinks. It didn’t help that Nero's skin tingled every time he pictured V’s smile in his head or imagined his voice, remembering the warmth of his palm on his shoulder. But it was an innocent, if not meaningless, gesture!

Nero was a little disappointed to see Jonny and V together by the stair master when he got to the gym. V, already broken out in a sweat, went up each step very slowly with his hands gripping tightly onto the rails for support. He overheard Jonny push him a little harder, encourage him to go just a bit longer. Nero shrugged, figuring he could say hello later. He weaved between machines and headed toward the dumbbell racks to start his own workout, ignoring the odd looks he got for carrying two smoothies around. Both apparently for himself.

But he didn’t see V halfway through his workout like he normally did; in fact, V was no longer visible anywhere in the gym. Nero slumped forward with a sigh. “Guess I gotta drink that second one after all,” he said, eyeing the ingredients as they separated in the cup by his foot. He turned his music up and finished the last set of military presses. Moved onto the machines, got lost in lifting to ignore the strange, roller-coaster feeling in his gut.

Nero finished up an hour later. As he walked into the locker room, his phone rang an obnoxiously loud tune – immediately telling that it was Dante. “Hey Dante—”

 _“Where the hell are you? Did you forget that it’s your father’s birthday?”_

“Like he gives a shit,” Nero said, reaching into his pockets for a key. “Like _I_ give a shit. Doesn’t that make it your birthday, too?”

 _“Shut up. Look, I know it’s hard for you to come to terms with this, but you already made the commitment to be here and_ he’s _trying. If he can, can’t you?”_

“It’s not that simple, Dante, he fucking abandoned me. _Us!_ You’re the one who took him back in, forgave him like nothin’ ever happened. You just don’t get it.” Nero stuck the key in the lock, kicking off his shoes as his uncle rambled on some more about ‘family’ and ‘promises’ and whatever the fuck else he thought might guilt trip Nero into running back home with open arms, apologetic and eager to get to _really_ know his dad. He nearly pulled the locker door off its hinges as his mood worsened.

“Look, I just finished up. I’ll be back soon.”

_“You better be. Oh, and pick up a cake on the way.”_

“Seriously Dante? Whatever, bye.”

Nero groaned, resting his head on the locker above his. The cold metal soothed his pounding head, no doubt the cause of which was his uncle’s bullshit. He didn’t know why Dante tried so hard.

“Nero? Is that you?”


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> V kinda overdoes it on the stair master and Nero has to help him. Will he finally ask him out? Keep reading to see for yourself!

_“Nero? Is that you?”_

His head snapped up at the sound of his name. He hadn’t noticed that someone was in the showers, someone who happened to be—“V?”

“Ah, it is you, thank goodness. Um – I’ve sort of, ah, gotten myself into a situation. Could you… help me?”

His voice was so quiet that Nero barely heard the request. He blushed a little, his mind obviously going to dirtier places than it should; but V sounded very... _hesitant_ to ask for his help. Nero wondered if maybe he’d fallen down or forgotten his cane somewhere.

“Yeah, sure, what do you need?”

“I… I can’t move my leg,” he said. “I, ah, I think it’s too stiff. Could you help me get out of the shower? I just need to sit down for a while, that’s all.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, let me just get a towel. Do you have one? Ah, fuck it, I have a clean one. I’m coming.”

Nero quickly grabbed a clean towel from his gym bag and walked across the wet tile in his socks, knocking on the space next to the curtain to signal that he was there. “Um, here you go,” he said, pushing the towel forward.

“Haha, I can’t quite do that by myself,” V said. Nero bit his fist to stifle a groan. “I’ve been leaning against the wall for the past fifteen minutes because I can’t move even an inch.”

“Okay, can—can I come in?”

“…Yes, please.”

Nero’s throat went dry. He opened the curtain and turned off the shower, doing his best to ignore that V was fully nude right in front of him. He hooked his arm around V’s back, shifting his body to wrap the towel around V’s slender hips. “I’m gonna carry you out there, that okay?”

“Yes.”

Nero moved his free arm under V’s thighs as V held onto the towel; in one sweep, he lifted V's body and carried him out of the stall. V hissed in pain at the sudden movement, his leg stiffening further. “It’s alright, you’re gonna be fine, we’re almost there, okay? You got this.”

V nodded, his wet hair tickling Nero’s chin. God, he weighed nothing, but Nero didn’t have much time to dwell on that. He lowered V down onto the nearest bench, making sure not to bump his leg on the edge and only let go when V’s grip around his shoulders loosened. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine—” Another hiss. “It doesn’t usually get this bad,” he explained.

“Can I try something?” Nero asked quietly. V closed his eyes, brows knit as he pushed through the pain. Then he nodded. “Where do you feel the most pain?” V lightly patted his thigh. “Okay, I’m gonna massage your leg starting from the bottom, but if you want me to stop just tell me. Sound good?”

V swallowed thickly. “Alright.”

“Okay,” Nero said, more to himself than to V. He’d had his fair share of tight muscles and strains in all his years as a weightlifter and learned a few techniques to help loosen the muscles and improve blood circulation; he only hoped it wouldn’t make things awkward between them, given the circumstances.

Nero knelt down and slowly lifted V’s leg until his ankle rested on his shoulder, giving it a little stretch but not too much; starting from the underside of his calf, he pressed his thumbs into the muscle. V held his breath, keeping his eyes closed to concentrate on anything but the pain. Nero gradually added more pressure, massaging over some of the bigger knots as he moved along to the top of V’s shin. He kept his hands moving smoothly over the muscle, always from the ankle up, checking V's facial expression every now and then to see if it helped. His breathing had calmed and the tension in his leg had begun to dissipate.

“I’m gonna move a bit higher now,” he said, mouth suddenly dry as cotton. He waited for V to nod before pressing his fingertips into a bony knee. V didn’t seem to mind at all until he pressed harder, shifting a little on the bench – at least as much as he could with one leg stiff and in the air.

It was getting harder to concentrate for Nero. Seeing V’s eyebrows squeeze together in the middle, his eyes closed and lips parted just slightly… Nero closed his own eyes. His hands could lead the way, and he knew V would surely stop him if he massaged too far up. The thought made him hold his breath.

“This part’s gonna hurt,” Nero warned. He moved a little closer and flattened his palms over V’s thigh, pressing into it with the heel. V inhaled sharply. “Sorry.” Nero used his left hand to knead, his fingers pushing relentlessly into the aching muscle. He bit his lip as V tried his best to reign in grunts of pain. “Just a little bit longer, ‘kay?”

Thankfully, V’s leg didn’t spasm as he continued upward, primarily using the pad of his thumb and the sharp curve of his knuckles. It was an awkward position, though. Nero opened his eyes to readjust V’s leg, letting it rest lower over his knee. With better leverage he pressed mildly into the muscle, first with his knuckles to get deep inside the tissue, then with his palms to give V some relief. Nero continued for a few minutes in silence until a sharp pain shot through his hand. “Shit, sorry, my hand’s cramping. Gimme a minute.”

“No—I mean, it’s fine now.” V slid his thigh over Nero’s knee and carefully set his foot on the floor. “Bit of pins and needles, but at least I can move it.”

It was kind of cute the way V wiggled his toes to show Nero he could, in fact, move his foot and by extension, his leg.

“Oh, good. I’m glad. Still sorry though, I know it hurts like hell, but I had to get a deep massage once when I pulled a muscle really bad. You just have to grit through the pain to loosen it all up.”

“I see. Thank you, Nero, ah… I’m quite embarrassed, but grateful nonetheless.”

“Shucks, it was nothin’,” Nero said, smiling. It was difficult to look at V without becoming completely flustered, but he didn’t want him to feel bad about it. Shit happens. He also didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by looking him in the eye, though... Nero was toeing a fine line. But V wasn't looking at his face; instead, his green eyes took in the state of Nero's tank top and sweats, soaked partially from sweat but mostly from coming into the shower to help V out into the locker room. He frowned.

“My goodness. Your clothes got all wet – I apolo—”

“Don’t even, V, it’s fine.” As if to prove he had a fully dry clean outfit on hand, he grabbed the duffel out of his locker and set it on the bench next to V. “Seriously, I was about to change and leave anyhow.”

“Oh.” V looked away as Nero changed, stretching his leg out and lifting it slowly to test the waters before he decided to stand on it and change into clothes, too. The air became thicker, a heavy atmosphere surrounding them despite the steam from the shower having long since dissipated. Nero shoved his dirty, wet gym clothes into the duffel and swung it over his shoulder. He pushed his hands into his pockets.

“So, uh, are we—”

“Let me make this up to you—”

They stopped mid-sentence and stared at one another before laughing. “There’s nothing to make up for, V, you needed help and I stepped up. Most _decent_ people would.”

“Still, I’m just glad that it was you.”

Nero’s heart skipped a beat. _Okay, calm down_ , he told himself, _that’s just because he kinda knows you. You’re familiar. That’s why he’s glad, no other reason. Calm the fuck down._

“Please let me make this up to you. Perhaps a gift, I could return the favor and bring you a smoothie? I cannot guarantee it will be any good, however.”

“Yeah, that, or you could, uh, go on a date with me?”

Oh god. Oh fuck, he said it. He wasn’t thinking straight. Showers and V and leg massages—it came out of his mouth as if he were rehearsing the question the entire time V sat there speaking to him, but he wasn't! He didn’t mean to say it, and now he’d set himself up for rejection.

“Fuck, sorry, forget I—”

“Alright.”

V was… _smirking_? If Nero wasn’t already fucked, he sure was now. “Oh, okay, well uh. That threw me for a fuckin’ loop, Jesus, V.”

“Did you have a place in mind?”

“Not yet, I didn’t think—fuck.” Nero silenced an incoming call from Dante, sending a quick text that he was on his fucking way before he opened a new contact slot and handed his phone to V. “I’ll call you about it later, is that okay? My uncle’s gonna throw a temper tantrum if my ass ain’t back home in ten.”

V laughed quietly and entered his phone number, saving it under ‘V🖤.’ Nero smiled when he saw the heart. He returned the phone to his back pocket and inhaled.

“See you soon?” he asked. Too hopeful.

“Indeed. Good luck with your uncle, Nero.”

Nero couldn’t calm his thoughts or his body, muscles and tendons all tense and tingling. He asked V on a date and V said yes. _Without hesitation._ Nero was so caught up in his head that he forgot to pick up a goddamn cake for his dad and uncle, and _of course_ he only realized this as he turned down their street. He cursed Dante up and down and flipped a bitch in the direction of the nearest grocery store. This was the _last_ time he’d do that forgetful old fart any favors!

When he finally made it home, well – for starters, he didn’t expect the whole crew to be there. Lady, Trish, Nico, even Kyrie; Nero made a mental note not to avoid her because he couldn’t do that forever, and their awkward, short-lived relationship was _years_ ago. He should be over that embarrassment by now. (It would be easier to get over if she hadn’t been the one to tell him he was definitely gay.)

“About damn time!” Dante said, standing up from the couch. “You’re lucky he’s pissing right now or else he’d know I forgot to pick up a cake!”

“ _Everyone_ knows you forgot, Dante,” Trish drolled. “Even Vergil. Your fridge was empty before we got here.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Y’know, maybe if you’re nice to me I’ll tell him the cake _you_ ordered wasn’t ready yet and that’s why I had to pick it up,” Nero said.

Dante’s pleading eyes were kind of pathetic. Nero regretted the offer.

“Well if it isn’t the best kid and my favorite – well, _only_ – nephew in the whole wide world,” Dante said sweetly. Nero rolled his eyes and shrugged Dante’s arm off from around his shoulders. “Look at you bein’ so generous.”

“Keep talkin’ and I take it back.”

Dante laughed, shaking his head as he took the cake and set it on his desk. Vergil had just then appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and since Nero didn’t have time to go to his room, he chucked his gym bag in the corner while hoping it wouldn’t stink up the first floor. Soon after he, quite unenthusiastically, joined in on the singing.

_Happy birthday to you, happy birthday Vergil and Dante…_

“How old even are they?” he mumbled. Trish laughed, shrugging.

“Too old to still be fucking like animals,” she said. Nero grimaced.

“Don’t remind me.”

“How are you holding up?”

Nero held his breath. His head dipped from side to side as he said, “So-so, I guess. It’s hard to bond with someone that barely talks as it is.”

“Mhm. Well, don’t give up too quickly. Dante really wants this to work out for you. He loves you both.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Nero scratched the back of his head, content to be a loner on the couch. At some point Kyrie plopped down next to him, then Dante, and they talked over him like he wasn’t there. Catching up. Nero didn’t really mind, but he hadn't noticed Dante calling his name until a gloved hand waved in front of his face. He slapped it away and rolled his eyes. “Sorry, what?”

“You're obviously distracted, that’s all. Everything okay?”

“Uhh.” Nero gnawed on the inside of his cheek. Should he even tell Dante what happened? “Well, I asked V out on a date and he said yes.”

“Is that so?” Vergil was suddenly next to Dante. _And_ he heard what Nero said! He was probably there the whole time, Nero just didn't notice. Still... that monotonous voice made him freeze; of course, Dante he could deal with. Probably knew a good amount about dating and courting and all that shit. But Vergil? “This ‘V’ must be exquisite to garner so much of your attention,” Vergil added.

“Uh-huh. Oh, happy birthday, I guess… I mean, we already sang the song, but you know. From—from me.”

Vergil exhaled through his nose. Was that a smile? “Thank you, Nero.”

“Well, we’ll talk about _that_ later,” Dante said, sensing Nero’s desire to not make this a big deal in front of everyone. “But for now, who’s ready to eat some cake?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the abrupt ending, this is about as far as I am with the fic!! BUT next chapter, Dante & Verg will help Nero find the perfect 'fit for his date with V and then all the cute fluffy goodness will start to happen. I hope y'all are enjoying it so far!!! ;___;
> 
> \--OH AND QUICK NOTE, i've had a rly bad leg cramp/spasm before after working out, but i'm not sure if i described it in enough detail here. i tried to. it's this weird pain that throbs and gets worse no matter how you move, u basically just have to wait for the pain to pass. massaging the area helps sometimes, usually afterward, but i rly wanted there to be this sexual tension & sweet tenderness between nero and v so uh << hence the scene.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vergil has amazing taste in fashion. He helps Nero find something to wear for his date with V, and things get a little heated a little faster than Nero is prepared for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nero's suit is loosely based on [this](https://www.dhgate.com/product/royal-blue-men-tuxedos-groom-wedding-suits/508740232.html#seo=WAP) and V's is based on [this](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/662169951443955833/) but different colors!! :3

_Five hours_. That’s the grand total of how long they spent browsing through several department stores in downtown, plus a trip to the mall and necessary side-quest for pizza because Dante got hungry – “That’s what you get for skipping breakfast like a dumbass,” Nero said. He swore Vergil laughed a little, but he couldn’t tell because the bastard had covered his mouth. Dante seemed happy though, and Nero was hardly in the mood to argue about it. Moving through large crowds and getting stared at or _all three of them_ being flirted with was more exhausting for him than, say, a three-hour gym session.

“This blows,” Nero grumbled, finishing his second slice. “Do I really just suck that bad at picking out nice clothes?”

“Guess you got that from me, kid,” Dante said. “Verg here has the sense of style. I’m surprised you don’t have better taste in clothes, honestly.”

Nero rolled his eyes, absently watching as Dante gorged himself on a fifth piece of pizza.

“All the nicer places are too expensive, though.”

“ _That’s_ what you’ve been moping about? You know Verg and I can foot the bill.”

“Spending my money again, Dante, really?” Vergil asked. Nero couldn’t tell if Vergil was trying to be funny or not, but Dante merely shrugged; they both knew Vergil was the one bringing home the cash, even if they didn’t know exactly what he did. Nero suspected Dante _did_ know, but he never talked about it. “However, he is correct. I have no problem paying for a nice, tailored suit should you find one you like.”

“Name some places, maybe we’ll check ‘em out another day,” Nero said. He felt distraught, like it was silly he couldn’t find anything he liked more than a button-up that didn’t fit right and slacks that were too tight on his thighs and too loose around his ankles. After the third store, he stopped bothering to try things on. None of it fit anyway.

“Hm. There is one more place I have in mind, and if you still don’t find anything, we’ll go home.”

Nero felt a strange warmth radiate from the core of his chest. Part of him was annoyed by the feeling, like he was being treated the same as a pouty child who wasn’t getting his way, but another part acknowledged the effort that Vergil put forward as comfort. He was _trying_. He offered to show Nero one more shop and that was it, because he knew how tired and anxious Nero was about this.

He huffed, scratching the tip of his nose. “Yeah, okay. Lead the way, _dad_.”

Vergil smirked.

They ended up at the other end of the mall in a small shop tucked away neatly down the hall. _Ex._ That’s what it was called. Nero had never heard of it, but Vergil strolled inside like he owned the place and greeted the cashier professionally. “Ah, Sir Sparda! What a lovely surprise,” the man said.

“My son is in need of a suit,” Vergil said. He didn’t indulge in the man’s questions about Nero, _Oh, you have a son? He looks just like you!_ Instead, he began to list specifications. “Blue, fitted. Perhaps a red accent. We’ll try it with and without a tie. He has a very important…” Vergil’s lip twitched just slightly as he glanced in Nero’s direction. “ _Client_ to meet with this weekend. It will not be a problem to provide compensation for such short notice.”

Client? Nero scoffed, folding his arms. At least Vergil didn’t _out_ him, not that he cared. The man shook his head, assured Vergil no payment was necessary, after all he owed him – Jesus _fuck_ , what did Vergil do to be treated like such royalty? Before Nero could ask, the man said, “Right this way, young Sparda,” and guided him by the elbow through a curtain to the back room.

Nero had never been fitted for a suit before. The man took his measurements first, scribbling it all down on a worn-out notepad along with some notes. Nero glanced at the paper: _blue, red accent_ , just like Vergil said, _alterations_ with a question mark. A few other words he could barely read but assumed they were brand names he had in mind, or something of the like. The man left for ten minutes, and when he returned his arms were full of paired suits.

“Try these on here, first,” he explained. “When you find one you like, we’ll bring it out to see if your father approves.”

“’Kay.”

When the man left him alone, Nero rolled his eyes. If his _father_ approves, tch. He quickly stripped and tried on a neutral-colored blazer… Nope. Did not look great with his white hair. The next one was a run-of-the-mill black suit, too plain and boring, though. Didn’t make anything stand out on him, except maybe his eyes. But the next one—

It was perfect: a deep, royal blue blazer lined with dark red fabric. He left it unbuttoned; it looked _really_ good with the white boat-neck shirt he wore underneath. The pants matched in color, though they were still a little too tight around his thighs and the red lining remained hidden.

“Ah – gorgeous! Come, come, let us show Sir Sparda,” the man said, ushering him out.

“Would you quit callin’ him that? It’s weird,” Nero said. The man just laughed. With red in his cheeks, Nero stepped out from behind the curtain. Dante had made himself comfortable on the couch next to the counter while Vergil stood in front of him, both men stopping their conversation to ogle. Nero pursed his lips at the sound of Dante’s low whistle. “Stop it.”

“You look great, that’s all,” Dante said. “Seriously, kid. You’re killin’ it.”

Nero shook his head slightly. He turned his gaze toward Vergil, who eyed him up and down before circling to check the entirety of the suit. “Very nice,” he commented. “High quality fabric. Vibrant. This blazer will need some adjustments—”

“Tell me about it,” Nero interrupted. “I can barely bend my elbows. I’m not so sure about that, either, I just look too stiff.”

Vergil hummed. He lifted Nero’s arm by the wrist and unbuttoned the cuffs, meticulously rolling the sleeves as far up as they would go on Nero’s thick forearms. He did the same to the other side before gesturing to the full-body mirror for Nero to see. And he’d be damned, it actually looked a lot better on him like that. “Thanks,” he mumbled. Vergil hummed again before nodding at the man, and as they took care of the details, Nero slipped back into the other room and changed into his more comfortable athleisure wear.

Judging by the look on V’s face when Nero finally found his apartment and stood in front of the door, poised to knock, Vergil’s impeccable taste in fashion proved to be true. V had stepped back to take in Nero’s suit, or maybe to invite him in, though Nero didn’t budge, but it was obvious in the way he smiled that he approved of the look. His eyes followed every sharp fold of the blazer, nodding slowly as he enjoyed the colors, and he stopped to linger where the rolled-up sleeve met Nero’s forearm. “You look very handsome,” he said.

“Thanks.” Shit, how was he already out of breath? “I mean, you look—you look amazing, too,” Nero said.

V wore a white button-up beneath a… a _corset_? Holy _shit_. Nero licked his lips, eyeing the dark violet color of it peeking out from beneath a black, finely lined vest with gold embroidery. The colors were magnificent and yet so simply paired. V’s pants were also black and clung tightly to his thin legs, as tight as the laced corset around his middle. Nero resisted the urge to untie it, but he couldn’t help staring at it. Who knew corsets could be this sexy on men? “Amazing’s not the right word, actually,” Nero added.

V smirked. “Perhaps you can think up a more fitting vocabulary on our way. Shall we?”

Nero gently took V’s offered hand into his and brought it up to his lips. His tattooed skin was warm. Nero almost missed the soft expression on V’s face, but he kept their eyes locked as his cheeks turned pink. He couldn’t help but smile. Forget his stomach, his entire body was afloat with butterflies.

Nero led V to his car, having taken extra measure to clean it inside and out. It shone a lovely silver as he opened the passenger side door, abruptly realizing he’d never let go of V’s hand. V didn’t seem to mind. Neither did he mind when Nero took his hand again after they’d started driving, his calloused thumb tracing over the bumps of V’s bony knuckles. “You’re more affectionate than I imagined,” V mused. Nero gulped.

“Is that bad?”

“No.” V brought Nero’s hand up to his face, resting his cheek against it. “I quite enjoy it.”

Nero’s heart thrummed in his ears the rest of the way there.

Dinner went surprisingly smooth. Vergil and Dante had suggested a lounge, some place Nero had never heard of because he rarely went out. But the place was secluded – there were only a handful of other patrons there. It felt _private_ , and although it was a lounge primarily for alcoholic enjoyment, the kitchen’s menu was exquisite. Farm-to-table type dishes, small in portion but affordable and delicious.

As they finished off another plate, the waiter refilled Nero’s water and offered V another glass of red. V accepted. Maybe he was nervous, too? Nero half-wished he could drink, gain a little bit of liquid courage to cozy up to V, but he knew better than to chance it while being the driver. He was a lightweight anyway.

One waiter cleared their table as another set down V’s wine. He thanked them, swirling the liquid around before inhaling its contents. His eyes fluttered shut. “Stunning,” Nero whispered. V raised a curious eyebrow, opening his eyes as he grinned against the lip of the glass.

“What, now?”

“Stunning,” Nero repeated. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you look stunning. That’s a better word than amazing, right? From earlier?”

V chuckled, taking a sip before he leaned close on the sofa and held out the glass. “Would you like a taste?” he asked. Nero’s throat went dry. He looked from the wine glass to V’s lightly flushed cheeks, then finally settled his sight on those lips. They were a little bit red, so full and plump, even as V’s smile widened from ear to ear.

“Sure,” Nero finally answered, “but first can I kiss you?”

V’s knee bumped his thigh as he moved closer, the wine glass forgotten as soon as it was placed on the table. He closed his eyes, his face so close to Nero’s, and only when he nodded did Nero press their lips together. Soft, just like he’d imagined, gentle in their push and pull. He couldn’t get enough already, and neither could V; his fingers lifted to graze along Nero’s jaw, tilting his head to the left. Nero sighed, parting his lips as they deepened the kiss. Slowly, intimately. Nero felt goosebumps all over his body as he rested one hand atop V’s thigh.

V let out a quiet moan, pulling away just enough to stare into Nero’s eyes.

“Tastes good,” Nero said, laughing a little. Just to get the full flavor, he reached over with his free hand and grabbed the wine glass, taking the smallest sip. It lingered on his tongue, far too heavy for his tastes. But he was feeling bold. Nero nuzzled V’s face, pressing kisses along his sharp cheekbone before letting their lips meet in another slow, yearning kiss.

V was left breathless, eyes half-lidded. He smiled. “Nero.” Just hearing that deep voice _purr_ his name made Nero shift his legs. “If you’ve no plans after this,” V continued, “would you like to join me in watching a movie?”

His hand squeezed Nero’s large shoulder, rubbing softly back and forth. Nero exhaled slowly and intertwined his fingers with V’s other hand, bringing those hard knuckles to his lips as he kissed each one of them. He closed his eyes, heart going wild in his chest. Everything was too hot and happening too fast and he _really_ liked V, more than he’d ever liked anyone before. He wasn’t sure why? They had spoken of their interests and family and friends, bantered like good friends over dinner, and yet their first kiss was the closest he’d ever felt to V. Maybe he learned that V was a foster kid, maybe he learned that his favorite pastime was reading or that he got into a really bad accident which was why he needed physical therapy, but another piece of V still lingered beneath the surface. Hidden. Nero wanted to discover that piece of V, solve the mystery of his alluring nature. And he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “Let me go pay and then we can go?”

V pressed chaste kisses upon his jaw. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry.......... spicy dry humping next episode!!!!!!!!!!! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero goes back to V's apartment, knowing full well what's about to happen. But... maybe V wants something more than this, too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> officially end of the line!!!! i might write an extra chapter later ;) but not for a while. i have my eyes set on a DaNero fic next, hehe, a one shot, but anyway! thank you guys so much for the kudos and comments, you are the sweetest! i love this ship and i hope i've done it justice in this au!!! ♥

Nero hadn’t had a drop of liquor but still felt intoxicated on the way back to V’s apartment. He missed those big, lovely lips and nearly gave in to leaning over for a kiss at every red light or stop sign. He missed the way his body felt electrified when they touched, how warm V’s hands were and the way he had moaned so softly for him. But something else grew inside him, too, akin to fear. He knew V hadn’t really invited him back _just_ to watch a movie, and while he wanted it just as badly, he didn’t want to rush into things. V was beautiful, strong, intelligent, and matched his humor perfectly. Nero wanted more than a good time.

He wasn’t exactly sure how to tell V that, though, and he knew the other man could sense him getting lost in his thoughts.

Long fingers squeezed his hand. “Nero, you missed the turn,” V said. Nero apologized and turned around, quickly finding an open parking spot. He locked his car and walked around it to grab V’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a gentle embrace. V hummed as his hands roamed along Nero’s back, tracing the hard lines of his shoulder blades and rolling over each bump of his spine until they rested teasingly on his lower back.

“V,” he whined.

V chuckled and kissed his cheek before leading him to his apartment on the second floor. Nero couldn’t help himself when they got to the door; he wrapped his arms around V’s waist and kissed his neck, his body jolting with pleasure at V’s quiet groan. He grinned and kissed behind V’s ear. V dropped his keys, sighing dramatically, although he didn’t immediately bend down to get them. “Nero,” he warned. “I won’t have you outside on the stoep.”

Nero blushed. “Sorry, I just like you a lot.”

V picked up his keys, and as he stood back up Nero saw a wonderful smile on his face. His heart skipped _two_ beats.

When V finally got the door open, he stepped aside for Nero and told him, “Please, make yourself at home. No shoes on the carpet, though. I’ll be back shortly.”

Nero nodded, carefully untying the _very_ expensive Oxfords his father had thrown in as a gift before setting them aside. When he stood back up, he looked around the apartment: the kitchen was small with a few pots and pans hanging above a countertop that gave a window-view into the living room. A mildly used couch sat in front of a television set, though it dwarfed in comparison to the two large _and full_ bookcases on the adjacent wall. Nero stepped onto the plush carpet and made his way toward the bookcases, a forefinger reaching out to trace along various hardened spines. Most of them were thick hardcovers, and on the bottom shelves he found thinner paperback novels. Many were poetry collections.

He glanced behind him and saw one anthology open on the table. Nero made note of the poem on the page – _Love’s Secret_ – and then picked it up, checking the spine for its author. “William Blake?”

“Yes.” Nero jumped at the sound of V’s voice. He chuckled softly. “Blake is my favorite poet. I always read his work before bed – here, let me take that and clear the table.”

Nero handed him the book. “Geez, you weren’t kiddin’ when you said you love reading.” V smiled and _oh_ , Nero would die a thousand times over just to see it once more!

He cleared his throat and sat down on the end of the couch. The opposite side had a noticeable dip in the cushion, which made Nero feel giddy for some reason. It was kind of cute, and expected, that V had a claimed spot on his own couch. He turned his attention to V as he fretted some more with what little clutter laid around before he brought out two glasses of water and set it on the table; he’d foregone his vest, corset, and button up for a loose-fitting t-shirt. Nero followed his example and unrolled the sleeves of his jacket, sliding easily out of it. He placed it neatly on the arm of the couch.

V sighed, collapsing down into the spot beside Nero. He hadn’t even noticed the television was turned on and a movie had started playing, but without thinking twice, Nero wrapped his arm around V’s shoulders. V leaned closer to rest his head on Nero’s chest, and just like that, his heart started to pound. He licked his lips and forced himself to breathe slowly, wondering if V could hear just how wild his touch made him. Then V moved until his body half-covered Nero’s side. His ear was placed right above Nero’s heart and his arms squeezed lightly around his middle, and all of that made it more difficult for Nero to focus. The opening credits had just finished rolling.

_Dramatic music fills the space as the camera pans over beautiful scenery. A lone character sits atop a jagged rock, binoculars in hand, waiting—_

Soft lips brought Nero out of focus. V pressed little kisses on his shoulder, moving higher onto his bare skin until he reached Nero’s neck and began sucking lightly beneath his ear. Nero swallowed a moan and held his breath, not trusting himself to speak without completely breaking. His hand squeezed V’s shoulder, but it betrayed him by pulling V flush against his body; Nero exhaled shakily and tilted his neck, whimpering at the sharpness of V’s canines as they grazed over his sensitive skin. “Damn, V,” he breathed. His hand followed down the line of V’s side, gripping roughly at his hip.

“Your intensity at the gym is to blame for this,” V whispered, followed by a nip to Nero’s earlobe. He cursed and shivered; V’s breath was so hot against his ear as he continued to talk. “Always flashy with your body, so strong and _thick_ , it drives me mad.”

As if to emphasize, V squeezed his bicep, then brought his hand up to do the same to his shoulder. Slowly, his fingers dragged along Nero’s collarbone, detouring down the inner curve of his pecs until his palm rubbed over a hardened nipple and made him throw his head back with a moan. V shuddered against him.

“Oh y-yeah?” Nero managed to say. He forced his eyes open and turned swiftly, crowding V until he had the beautiful man on his back, looming over him. “What about _you_?”

Nero knew he was too far gone at this point, hands shaking as they lifted V’s top up to his chin. “Look at these fucking sexy tattoos and your cute nipples, do you know how hard it is not to stare in the locker room?” Nero leaned back and rubbed his rough palms up from V’s flat stomach to his chest, thumbing over his delectable pink nipples. V flushed deeply, arching his back into Nero’s touch. “Especially that day you had a leg spasm. Fuck, you were _naked_ in front of me while I massaged you and I couldn’t look ‘cause I didn’t know you were attracted to me too. Never seen someone so gorgeous,” he continued, but he licked his lips and gave pause. Nero inhaled. It was now or never.

“Nero?”

Fuck, V looked so delicious beneath him like that. Blushing with plump lips just begging to be kissed – _and then some_ – and his tattoos on display for Nero’s admiration, body arched because he was greedy for Nero’s touch. But Nero had to know.

“I—fuck, this is embarrassing. I want you so bad, but y’know, I really do like you and I don’t want it to just be a one-time thing.”

His breath caught in his throat, but Nero forced himself to hold V’s gaze. Arousal-driven green eyes softened as V sat up, his shirt falling back down to cover him. He cradled Nero’s face in his palm, closed his eyes, and pressed their lips together in a feather-light kiss. “What made you think I wouldn’t want more from you?” he asked. V brought his other hand up to place over Nero’s heart, right where his ear had been earlier, listening to its rapid thumping. “I’ve never felt as drawn to anyone as I am to you.”

Nero’s stomach flipped and suddenly he wondered why he’d fussed over this in the first place. V felt the same way and all he could do was start laughing, then he kissed all over V’s face until he found his lips again. V sighed into it, latching onto Nero’s shirt as he dragged him back down. Their lips parted and tongues met in a rush of desire, their moans only muffled by impatient panting and the sound of voices from the television. Nero pushed V’s shirt back up and broke their kiss to lap at his left nipple, flattening his tongue over it before he grazed the nub with his teeth. V let out the sexiest sound as he clutched onto Nero’s shoulders.

He switched over to the other side, repeating the action and sucking on V’s nipple until he was writhing under him. Fast fingers pulled him up by the hair into another heated kiss, and V’s desperation caused their achingly hard cocks to rub together through too much fabric. Both men moaned into each other, bodies pressing closer until there was no space left between them.

“Nero,” V panted, biting his lip to keep from whimpering as Nero rolled his hips. “Ah—hn, bed,” he said, “Bedroom. More space.”

Nero paused to breathe, nodding slowly. He carefully slid off the couch, seeing just how uncomfortable V probably was with his neck angled awkwardly against the armrest. He held out his hand and pulled V into his arms, hugging him tight for a single moment.

Then with much haste, V dragged him down the hall into his bedroom. Nero would’ve stopped to look at the various trinkets and books on his end tables, but he was distracted by V, sitting at the edge of the bed taking off his shirt. A growl rumbled through his chest as he discarded his own boatneck and unbuttoned his unbearably tight slacks; he didn’t miss the way V’s eyes roamed down his body and stopped at the very obvious erection poking out of his boxers.

Nero’s cheeks reddened. He ducked his head shyly, taking two steps forward until he was directly in front of V.

V pressed his hands onto Nero’s abs, trembling slightly as his long fingers moved further upward and over his pecs. He gave them a good squeeze, his eyes never leaving Nero’s, though his hands dipped around to his lower back and pulled him even closer. Big, soft lips kissed along Nero’s hip bone as he tugged the troublesome pants down until they rested at Nero’s ankles.

Nero stepped out of them and tapped on V’s knee, saying, “Hey, I can’t be the only pants-less one.” V laughed and removed his pants, scooting further back onto the bed as Nero climbed over him. He caged V in with his forearms, shivering as V groped at all his muscles, his beautiful face contorted with pleasure and impatience. Nero pressed their lips together, simultaneously rolling his hips forward. They groaned into each other’s mouths, the friction sending sparks of heat throughout their bodies. V wrapped his legs weakly around Nero, lifting his hips just slightly—Nero gasped, breaking their kiss to bury his face in V’s neck with a quiet cry.

“ _Fuck_!”

He was so fucking hard it hurt and all he could do was chase the feeling, red hot arousal shooting through his veins every time their cocks rubbed together through thin, dampening fabric. Nero kissed down the side of V’s neck, biting gently on the detailed swirls of his tattoos and sucking nonvisible hickeys because dammit if V wasn’t his, now. V’s sexy voice let out a moan right by his ear, making his head spin and his cock twitch until he couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned back and quickly pushed down his boxers. Nero was pleased to see V push down his own underwear; he leaned forward to kiss him, nibbling playfully on his plump lips at the same moment his large, rough hand wrapped around their cocks.

The way V moaned in his deep voice was almost enough to make him come. _Almost_. Nero scrunched his eyebrows and closed his eyes, submitting himself to the feeling of touch alone as he frantically thrusted his hips, sucking in cold air. V had a _big_ cock and it felt _so_ good to rub against it, his own length throbbing between the friction of another cock and his own palm. V wrapped his arms around Nero’s neck and pulled him into another kiss, but this one was sloppy and uncoordinated; Nero’s muffled moans became strangled whines as he stroked them at a faster pace. It was way too dry but fuck, he needed to come and V’s beautiful face told him he was enjoying it just as much, despite the callouses on his hand, and when he squeezed them together V threw his head back.

“Nero, I’m—ah—coming!”

V’s cock swelled in his hand and burst, hot white liquid coating Nero’s fingers and chest. He panted V’s name like a mantra, a prayer, leaning in to kiss him and cry through his own orgasm, thrusting his hips a few more times until his cum was completely expelled. He breathed shakily, his eyes still closed as their foreheads touched.

“V,” he moaned. “God, V, fuck – why the hell do you have to be so damn sexy?”

V laughed against his cheek, his arms tight around Nero’s neck. Unable to hold himself up, he fell on top of the beautiful man with caution; Nero was well aware how much more he weighed than V, and whether V loved his muscles or not, he didn’t want to crush him beneath them. But V was persistent and tapped on his shoulder until Nero submitted, letting his entire body weight envelop V as if it were a warm winter blanket.

The content sigh from V’s lips was entirely worth it. He sounded utterly fucked out of his pretty little head, which only served to turn Nero on _more_.

“ _Amazing_ ,” V teased. Nero snorted. He would use the most boring word to describe Nero’s handjob and frotting, but… Well, Nero felt the happiest he’d been in a while. V danced his fingers up and down Nero’s back, soothing all the tension in his broad shoulders. He breathed deeply. Inhaled and held the intoxicating smell of sex and _V_ and books and old, worn leather.

“Damn.” Nero pushed up on his elbows, his eyes half-lidded as he drank in the beauty of V’s post-coital expressions. He was positively glowing. “You know you can make me come with just your voice, right?”

“Maybe we should try that next.”

V winked, and then he smirked at the adorable look of shock on Nero’s face. But he merely laughed and pressed his nose in V’s shoulder, hugging him close, so sure that it was no coincidence their bodies melded together perfectly. V petted his hair and kissed his temple.

“Will you stay the night?”

Nero hummed, as if there was any necessary consideration for the idea. He flopped onto his side and pulled V into a full, warm embrace, kissing between his eyes and the tip of his nose and then finally, his swollen, red lips. “Well, yeah.”

V smiled again. Nero swore it would kill him, someday.

But neither of them cared about the mess they’d made. Sticky white fluids dried up quickly, smearing further up their chests only as they kissed slowly, deeply, sweating with anticipation under each other’s fingertips. For they knew the night was young, full of intimate whispers and exploration of hardened bodies with hands, lips, tongues and teeth, both men unable to contain the feelings they’d repressed over the past couple months.

Nero woke up the next morning sated and relaxed. He held V’s warm, thin body in his arms, littering that beautiful face with gentle kisses, and when those green eyes opened as V gained consciousness, they shone with a sleepy admiration that gave Nero goosebumps.

He hadn’t asked V to be his boyfriend yet, but after the night they’d spent together, he was sure they were on the same page. He didn’t even have to ask, it just _was_.

Now all he had to worry about was Dante’s incessant questioning whenever he decided to go home!


End file.
